PZ 

7 

Y28g 


HHE  GREY  STORY 
BOOK 


BY 

KATHERINE  M. 
YATES 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


CaJL 


BY  KATHERINE  M.  YATES 


WHAT  THE  PINE  TREE  HEARD.  Strathmore 
booklet,  postpaid,  50  cents. 

THE  GREY  STORY  BOOK.       Octavo,  boards, 
postpaid,  50  cents. 

ON  THE  WAY  THERE.       Octavo,  white  leath- 
erette, postpaid,  50  cents. 

AT  THE  DOOR.       Octavo,  tan  leatherette,  post- 
paid, 50  cents. 


K.  M.  YATES  &  COMPANY 

5340  Cornell  Avenue 
CHICAGO 


The 

Grey  Story  Book 


By 

Katherine  M.  Yates 

Author  of 

"  What  the  Pine  Tree  Heard  " 


Chicago 

K.   M.   YATES    &    CO. 
1905 


Copyright,  1904 

by 
KATHERINE  M.  VAXES 


PZ. 
7 


A  Word  to  the  Grown-ups 

ITTLE  folks  must  read,  and  it 
seems  that  it  were  better  that  the 
stories  intended  for  them  should 
be  such  as  will  bring  the  facts  and 
practical  uses  of  Christian  Science 
into  their  thoughts,  rather  than  those  which 
fail  to  teach  the  true  sense  of  prayer  and  its 
purpose.  We  know  that  God  answers  prayer ; 
but  we  must  learn  to  go  to  Him  "  in  Spirit  and 
in  Truth." 

You  may  feel  called  upon  to  criticise  the 
precocity  of  the  little  folks  herein  pictured,  but 
they  have  several  reasons  for  being  as  they  are. 
In  the  first  place,  the  stories  are  written  for 
children  and  not  for  grown-up  critics,  and  the 
effort  is  to  interest  the  little  one,  and  at  the 
same  time  to  let  him  see  how  he  can  utilize 
what  he  has  learned  in  Science,  in  his  every- 
day affairs.  I  do  not  know  that  this  can  be 
accomplished  by  better  means  than  through 
the  mouths  of  children  who  are  meeting  prob- 
5 


1G32S54 


A  WORD   TO  THE  GROWN-UPS 


lems  of  their  own,  even  though  the  processes 
of  reasoning  may  seem,  especially  to  one  who 
is  not  a  Christian  Scientist,  too  advanced  for 
the  child  who  brings  them  forth. 

Secondly,  one  who  has  not  been  thrown 
among  children  who  are  being  brought  up  in 
the  knowledge  of  Christian  Science,  has  no 
idea  of  their  ready  and  intelligent  adoption  of 
Science  words  and  phrases,  and  the  logical  con- 
clusions which  they  are  able  to  draw  from  the 
statements  of  Truth,  particularly  when  they  are 
lovingly  trained  to  this  process  of  reasoning. 

Hoping,  therefore,  that  the  little  folks  who 
live  between  these  covers  will  be  graciously 
received,  I  send  by  them  the  greeting  of  a  sister 
in  Christian  Science. 

KATHERINE  M.  YATES. 


Contents 

Page 

In  the  Tall  Grass       .     .  .        .        .  .9 

Tramp,  Tramp,  Tramp      ,  .     /.  .        15 

What  Margie  Knew         ...  .26 

How  Walter  was  Treed    -   .        .  .        31 
The  Grey  and  White  Kitten    ...    44 

Around  the  Corner     ,    .        .        .  .        51 

Who  Owned  the  Rabbit?  .        .        .  .61 

The  Skates  and  Charley  "...  .        66 


In  the  Tall  Grass 

|T'S  the  very  finest  ball  I  ever  had 
in  all  my  life,"  said  Dicky,  turn- 
ing the  smooth,  white  sphere 
over  and  over  in  his  hands. 
"  It's  a  fifty-cent  base-ball,  and  I 
never  had  one  better  than  fifteen  cents  before. 
Isn't  it  a  fine  one,  Cousin  Will?  " 

Cousin  Will  took  the  ball  and  felt  it  all  over 
carefully  and  then  bounced  it  on  the  step.  "  I 
never  saw  a  better  one,"  he  said.  "  It's  hard 
and  it's  springy,  too.  Let's  try  it.  You  stand 
over  there  by  the  fence  and  we'll  pitch." 

Dicky  ran  to  the  fence  by  the  meadow  and 
Cousin  Will  stood  on  the  lawn  near  the  flower 
beds,  ready  to  throw.  "  Here  she  comes !  "  he 
shouted,  and  in  a  moment  the  smooth  white 
ball  was  in  Dicky's  waiting  hands.  It  was  a 
delight  just  to  feel  it,  and  Dicky  gave  it  a  little 
squeeze  and  thought  how  good  Uncle  Charley 
was  to  send  it  to  him. 
9 


IN  THE   TALL  GRASS 


Back  it  went  to  Cousin  Will's  hands,  and 
then,  for  ten  minutes  it  passed  back  and  forth 
between  the  boys  without  once  being  dropped. 

"  I  never  saw  such  a  ball,"  said  Cousin  Will. 
"  It  just  comes  right  into  my  hands  even  when 
I  don't  half  try  to  catch  it.  Now  here  comes 
a  high  one,"  and  he  threw  it  away  up  into  the 
air. 

Dicky's  hands  were  ready;  but  though  he 
jumped  as  high  as  he  could  when  he  saw  it 
passing  over  his  head,  he  could  not  quite  reach 
it,  and  in  a  moment  he  heard  it  strike  in  the 
soft  grass  of  the  meadow. 

"  Too  high  for  me !  "  he  laughed,  as  he  turned 
and  climbed  the  fence  and  jumped  down  in  the 
tall  grass  on  the  other  side. 

Will  sat  down  on  the  lawn  and  began  blow- 
ing on  a  blade  of  grass  held  between  his 
thumbs,  while  he  waited.  By  and  by  he  grew 
tired  of  this  and  called  out,  "  Hurry  up,  Dicky. 
Why  don't  you  throw  the  ball?  " 

"  I  can't  find  it,"  came  Dicky's  voice  from 
the  fence.    "  The  grass  is  so  high  that  I  can't 
see  it.    Come  and  help  me." 
10 


THE    GREY    STORY    BOOK 


Cousin  Will  ran  across  the  lawn  and  climbed 
upon  the  fence.  "  Whew!  "  he  whistled  when 
he  saw  the  tall  grass  and  weeds.  "  You'll  never 
find  it  in  there.  There  isn't  much  use  locking 
for  it."  But  he  jumped  down  and  joined  in  the 
search. 

For  a  long  time  they  looked,  but  could  not 
find  the  ball.  Dicky  was  almost  crying.  "  And 
it  was  the  very  nicest  ball  I  ever  had  in  my 
life,"  he  said  with  a  sob  in  his  voice,  "  and  I 
didn't  play  with  it  more  than  ten  minutes ! " 

"  Well,  there's  no  use  looking  any  longer," 
said  Cousin  Will,  at  last.  "  We  surely  can't 
find  it  now  that  the  grass  is  all  trampled  down 
like  this.  I'm  real  sorry  it's  lost,  but  there's  no 
use  feeling  bad  about  it.  Let's  go  out  to  the 
orchard  and  get  some  apples." 

But  Dicky  was  not  ready  to  go.  To  tell  the 
truth,  he  felt  as  if  he  must  cry  in  about  a 
minute,  and  he  was  ashamed  to  do  so  before 
Cousin  Will,  who  was  ten  years  old,  while  he 
was  only  eight. 

"  Well,  I'm  going,  anyway,"  said  Cousin 
Will.  "And  I'll  bring  you  one  of  those 


IN  THE  TALL  GRASS 


big  yellow  sweet  apples.  I  won't  be  gone 
long." 

When  Will  had  climbed  over  the  fence  again, 
Dicky's  tears  began  to  fall  so  that  he  could 
hardly  see  as  he  stumbled  around  in  the  long 
grass.  "  I  didn't  want  to  lose  that  ball,"  he 
sobbed.  Then  suddenly  he  remembered  some- 
thing that  he  had  heard  his,  papa  say  not  long 
ago.  "  I  use  Christian  Science  for  everything, 
all  day,  and  every  day,  and  it  always  helps  me." 
That  was  what  he  had  said. 

Dicky  brushed  his  tears  away.  "  I  wonder 
if  I  could  use  it  to  find  this  ball,"  he  thought. 
Then  he  climbed  up  on  the  fence  and  covered 
his  eyes  with  his  hand  as  he  had  seen  Mamma 
do. 

"  Let  me  think,"  he  said  to  himself,  trying 
to  remember  what  had  been  told  him  about 
handling  things  in  Science.  "  How  shall  I 
go  to  work?  First  I  must  know  that  the 
things  that  Cousin  Will  said  about  not  finding 
it,  were  not  true.  He  didn't  know  it,  but  I've 
got  to.  And  I've  got  to  know  that  everything 
that  isn't  good  isn't  true.  It  isn't  good  to  lose 


THE    GREY    STORY    BOOK 


balls,  nice  new  balls  that  you  haven't  played 
with  more  than  ten  minutes,  and  to  feel  bad 
about  it.  If  God  takes  care  of  me,  He  must 
take  care  of  all  my  things.  God  couldn't  lose 
anything,"  and  Dicky  almost  laughed  at  the 
idea  of  God  losing  things.  "  Of  course  He 
couldn't,"  he  cried,  "  and  if  He  can't,  I  can't. 
Just  as  if  I  could  do  something  that  God 
can't!" 

Dicky  did  laugh  now,  and  jumped  down 
from  the  fence,  and  then  he  laughed  harder 
than  ever ;  for  as  he  jumped  down,  he  tumbled 
over  into  a  heap,  for  one  foot  had  landed  upon 
something  smooth  and  round  which  lay  hidden 
in  the  grass  close  to  the  fence. 

Cousin  Will  came  running  across  the  lawn 
with  the  big  yellow  apple.  He  had  heard  the 
laugh,  and  couldn't  understand  it.  "  You 
haven't  found  it,  have  you?"  he  called  out. 

"Yes,  I  have,"  shouted  Dicky,  gleefully, 
holding  up  the  recovered  ball.  "  It  wasn't  lost 
at  all.  It  was  right  here  by  the  fence  all  the 
time." 

Cousin  Will  peered  over  the  fence  at  the 
13 


IN   THE  TALL  GRASS 


spot  which  Dicky  pointed  out.  "  Well,  I  don't 
see  how  you  ever  thought  of  looking  there.  I 
supposed  that  it  went  a  lot  farther  over  in  the 
meadow  than  that.  You  surely  are  lucky.  I 
didn't  think  you'd  ever  find  it  in  the  world." 
"  It  wasn't  luck,"  said  Dicky,  softly,  to  him- 
self. "  It  was  just  knowing  the  truth,  that  it 
was  not  lost  at  all,  and  now  I  shall  always 
know  that  God  takes  care  of  everything,  and 
that  Christian  Science  does  help  about  every- 
thing, all  day  and  every  day." 


"Tramp,  Tramp,  Tramp" 

DON'T  see  why  Teacher  chose 
Mabelle  Gates  to  play  the  piano 
for  our  drills,  do  you?  " 

"  No,"  Kittie  shook  her  head, 
thoughtfully.  "  I  can't  see  why 
she  did  it,"  she  said,  puckering  her  forehead. 
"  Mabelle  don't  play  nearly  so  well  as  Bertha 
Allen  or  Nell  Smith." 

"  Well,  of  course  they  are  a  good  deal  older 
than  she  is,"  said  Grace,  hastily.  "  You 
wouldn't  expect  her  to  play  so  well." 

"  No,"  agreed  Kittie,  "  of  course  not,  but 
the  other  girls  would  have  done  so  much  better. 
Mabelle  keeps  good  time,  but  she  doesn't 
know  as  many  pieces  or  as  pretty  ones  as  the 
other  girls.  She  hardly  plays  anything  but 
exercises,  and  Bertha  plays  some  beautiful 
marches  and  things." 

"  Yes,  I  know  it,  and  I  just  can't  think  what 
made   Teacher   choose   Mabelle   to   play   the 
15 


THE    GREY    STORY    BOOK 


piano,  and  then  have  little  Caroline  Peck  to 
lead  the  drills." 

"  Caroline  isn't  so  young  as  Mabelle." 

"  No,  but  she's  so  small,  and  she  isn't  so 
straight  and  soldier-like  as  Nell  Smith.  I 
think  that  Bertha  ought  to  play  the  piano,  and 
Nell  lead  the  drill." 

"  So  do  I,"  and  the  girls  walked  on  in  silence 
for  a- few  moments. 

"  I  like  Mabelle,  though,"  said  Kittie,  sud- 
denly, "  and  Caroline,  too.  They  are  perfectly 
lovely  girls;  but  I  just  don't  understand 
Teacher's  choosing  them,  that's  all." 

"  Oh,  of  course !  I  like  them,  too,"  said 
Grace.  "  I  always  did,  but  I  just  wondered." 

A  good  many  of  the  girls  and  boys  in  school 
wondered,  also;  but  they  were  very  careful 
not  to  let  the  two  favored  girls  know  that  the 
choice  was  not  perfectly  satisfactory  to  them. 

Every  day,  at  one  of  the  recesses,  the  chil- 
dren went  through  what  was  called  the  fire 
drill,  rising  from  their  seats,  and  marching  out 
in  order,  to  the  tune  of  the  simple  march  or 
exercise  which  Mabelle  played  for  them.  The 
16 


"TRAMP,  TRAMP,  TRAMP" 


teacher  stood  by  the  door  until  they  were  all 
out  of  the  room,  and  then  Mabelle  and  she 
fell  into  line,  and  they  went  down  the  three 
flights  of  stairs  and  out  of  doors  behind  the 
others. 

Mabelle  worked  hard  at  her  music,  out  of 
school  hours,  though  she  was  not  very  fond  of 
it ;  but  she  felt  the  honor  that  the  teacher  had 
shown  her  in  giving  her  the  work,  and  though 
she  guessed  as  to  the  reason,  she  kept  it  to 
herself,  and  tried  to  learn  as  many  pretty 
marches  as  she  could. 

One  morning  she  went  to  the  piano  with  a 
pink  little  flush  on  her  face,  and  in  a  moment 
the  stirring  strains  of  "  Tramp,  Tramp,  Tramp, 
the  Boys  are  Marching,"  were  ringing  through 
the  room. 

Instantly  there  came  a  great  hand-clapping 
from  the  girls'  side,  and  some  stamping  and 
two  or  three  shrill  whistles  from  the  boys'  side, 
and  Mabelle's  cheeks  flushed  pinker  than  ever. 
This  was  worth  the  long  hours  of  practice  that 
she  had  put  in. 

The  teacher  smiled,  but  held  up  her  hand  in 
17 


THE   GREY   STORY    BOOK 


warning,  and  the  drill  went  through  with  a 
great  deal  of  enthusiasm. 

And  after  this,  the  children  always  begged 
for  "  Tramp,  Tramp,"  until  the  teacher  had  to 
limit  its  use  to  once  a  week,  because  the  boys 
would  "  tramp,  tramp  "  so  loudly  when  they 
sang  the  words,  and  sometimes  would  even 
whistle,  and  that  was  entirely  too  noisy  for  a 
school-room. 

One  day,  near  the  end  of  the  term,  the  chil- 
dren were  all  sitting  quietly,  during  study 
hour,  when  suddenly  Nell  Smith  raised  her 
head  from  her  book  and  gave  a  prolonged 
sniff. 

At  the  sound,  other  heads  were  raised  and 
the  sniffs  were  heard  all  about  the  room.  The 
children  glanced  at  each  other  apprehensively. 

Presently  the  teacher  looked  up,  cast  her 
eyes  about  the  room  and  then  rose  and  went 
to  the  door  leading  into  the  hall.  As  she 
opened  it,  a  little  puff  of  smoke  came  into  the 
room.  She  closed  it  quickly  and  went  back 
to  her  desk.  The  children  were  watching  her, 


18 


TRAMP,  TRAMP,  TRAMP' 


breathlessly.  She  raised  her  pencil  for  the  drill 
to  begin,  and  Mabelle  went  quietly  to  the  piano 
and  struck  the  first  few  notes  of  a  little  exer- 
cise, as  the  children  rose  to  their  feet  to  com- 
mence their  march.  The  room  seemed  very 
quiet  save  for  the  music,  as  they  fell  into  line 
and  moved  slowly  forward. 

The  teacher  returned  to  the  door;  but  as 
she  opened  it  again,  a  stronger  puff  of  smoke 
came  in,  and  there  was  a  crackling  sound  from 
below.  The  hall  and  stairway  were  now  quite 
dim  with  smoke,  and  as  little  Caroline  Peck 
reached  the  door,  leading  the  long  line  of 
white-faced  children,  the  teacher  bent  over 
and  whispered  to  her: — 

"Are  you  afraid,  Caroline?" 

"  No,  ma'am,"  said  Caroline,  quietly,  look- 
ing up  into  her  face,  "  I  am  being  taken  care 
of." 

Just  then  the  children  from  one  of  the  lower 
rooms  rushed  out  into  the  hall  below,  pell-mell, 
screaming  in  fright.  This  was  too  much  for 
some  of  the  girls,  and  in  a  moment  a  half-dozen 


THE    GREY    STORY    BOOK 


of  them,  led  by  Bertha  Allen  and  Nell  Smith, 
had  broken  ranks  and  were  rushing  toward  the 
door,  and  others  seemed  ready  to  follow. 

"  Bertha,  Nell,  stop  where  you  are ! "  called 
the  teacher,  sternly,  catching  Bertha  by  the 
arm. 

"  I  won't,  I  won't !  "  screamed  Bertha.  "  I 
won't  stay  to  be  burned  up ! "  and  twisting 
herself  free,  she  dashed  out  into  the  hall,  fol- 
lowed by  Nell  and  a  few  others. 

Mabelle,  sitting  still  and  playing  her  little 
march,  turned  her  head.  Even  some  of  the 
boys  showed  signs  of  breaking  ranks,  and 
others  were  beginning  to  crowd  those  in  front 
of  them.  There  was  just  a  moment's  pause 
at  the  piano,  and  then  the  strains  of  "  Tramp, 
Tramp,"  took  the  place  of  the  light  march. 

Almost  without  thinking,  the  children  began 
once  more  to  keep  time  to  the  music ;  but  sev- 
eral of  the  girls  were  crying  loudly  and  others 
looked  ready  to  fall  with  fear.  Then  little 
Caroline  Peck,  who  had  just  reached  the  head 
of  the  stairway,  her  head  up  and  her  eyes 


TRAMP,  TRAMP,  TRAMP" 


shining,  steadily  keeping  time  and  leading  the 
others,  struck  up,  in  a  clear  little  voice,  the 
chorus  of  "  Tramp,  Tramp,  Tramp,  the  Boys 
are  Marching." 

In  an  instant  the  others  had  joined  in,  some 
of  the  voices  chokey  by  sobs  or  smoke,  but  all 
with  hearty  good  will. 

The  jostling  and  pushing  ceased,  and  the 
long  lines  of  children  became  as  straight  and 
even  as  ever  they  were  at  recess. 

Out  of  the  door  they  marched,  and  down 
the  three  flights  of  stairs,  singing  loudly  and 
tramping  lustily,  and  led  by  the  little  bright- 
eyed  girl  whose  head  was  high  and  whose  face 
fairly  shone  with  strength  and  courage. 

As  the  last  of  the  children  filed  out  of  the 
room,  the  teacher  turned.  She  could  scarcely 
see  Mabelle,  because  of  the  smoke. 

"  Come,  dearie,"  she  called. 

Mabelle  played  the  last  of  the  strain  and 
then  came  quickly  across  the  room.  The 
teacher  took  her  hand  and  they  hurried  after 
the  others.  They  could  hear  the  cheers  of 


THE  GREY  STORY  BOOK 


the  people  outside,  as  the  head  of  the  little 
column  came  out  of  the  front  door,  still  sing- 
ing loudly,  if  chokily. 

When  they  reached  the  lower  floor,  they 
found  but  little  smoke,  and  as  they  paused  for 
a  moment,  the  teacher  bent  over  and  kissed 
Mabelle,  tenderly.  "  I  knew  that  you  could 
do  it,  dearie,"  she  whispered.  "  You  are  a 
brave  little  girl." 

Mabelle  looked  up  into  her  face,  lovingly. 
"I  knew  that  was  what  you  chose  me  for," 
she  said,  simply. 

As  they  came  out  of  the  school-house  door, 
the  last  ones  in  the  line,  the  fare-engines  came 
rumbling  up,  and  the  children  scattered  in 
every  direction,  to  be  out  of  the  way. 

Presently  little  Caroline  came  and  slipped 
her  hand  into  Mabelle's.  "Let's  go  home," 
she  said.  "  We  don't  want  to  see  any  more. 
I  guess  it  isn't  much  of  a  fire,  anyway,  most 
all  smoke;  but  it  looked  pretty  black  when  I 
started  down  stairs.  It's  on  the  third  floor, 
and  it  wasn't  so  bad  when  we  got  below  there. 


TRAMP,  TRAMP,  TRAMP' 


There  wasn't  any  school  on  that  floor  to-day, 
so  that's  the  reason  we  didn't  hear  anything 
until  after  we  smelled  the  smoke.  There 
wasn't  anybody  to  give  the  alarm." 

"  Was  it  the  second  floor  children  who 
screamed  so?"  asked  Mabelle. 

"Yes,"  said  Caroline.  "They  got  fright- 
ened and  broke  ranks  and  all  rushed  out 
together,  and  some  of  them  fell  and  got  hurt." 

"I  think  you  were  ever  so  brave  to  march 
out  and  right  down  into  all  that  smoke,  when 
you  didn't  know  what  might  be  there,"  said 
Mabelle,  "  and  the  girls  say  that  you  didn't  act 
a  bit  afraid." 

"  But  that  wasn't  near  so  hard  as  to  stay  and 
play  until  the  last  one  was  out.  You  were 
braver  than  I  was,  and  your  starting  '  Tramp, 
Tramp,'  was  what  kept  them  from  getting  into 
a  panic." 

"  And  your  singing !  How  could  you  ever 
sing  in  all  that  smoke?  " 

Caroline  gave  Mabelle's  hand  a  little  squeeze. 
"  You  know  how,"  she  said.  "  I  knew  that  I 


THE    GREY    STORY    BOOK 


was  God's  child,  and  that  He  was  leading  me, 
and  that  smoke  couldn't  keep  me  from  doing 
anything  that  He  wanted  me  to  do." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mabelle,  "  and  I  knew  that  we 
were  all  God's  children,  and  that  God's  chil- 
dren couldn't  be  frightened  or  forget  them- 
selves, and  that  there  was  no  danger  if  we 
only  knew  that  He  was  taking  care  of  us, — 
and  when  the  others  were  singing  '  Tramp, 
Tramp,  Tramp,  the  Boys  are  Marching,'  I  was 
singing  '  Love,  love,  love,  the  good  God  loves 
us/  and  I  really  wasn't  afraid  a  bit.  Teacher 
knew  that  we  could  do  it ;  but  I  wonder  how 
she  knew.  She  isn't  a  Scientist." 

Just  then  a  gentle  arm  stole  around  the  neck 
of  each  of  them.  "  I  want  to  thank  you,  girls," 
said  the  teacher,  lovingly.  "  You  both  did  all 
that  any  one  could.  You  thought  and  acted 
quickly,  and  were  brave  and  cool,  and  I'm 
proud  of  you.  But  I  knew  that  you  could  do 
it,"  she  finished,  kissing  first  one  and  then  the 
other. 

Caroline  looked  up,  patting  the  pretty  teach- 


"TRAMP,  TRAMP,  TRAMP" 

er's  hand,  softly.  "  How  did  you  know  it?  " 
she  asked,  seriously. 

The  teacher  hesitated.  "Why,  I  hardly 
know,"  she  said,  "  only  you  both  seem  to  be 
strong  and  loving,  and  always  to  have  your 
wits  about  you.  That  is  the  reason  I  chose 
you  instead  of  some  of  the  older  girls.  By 
the  way,  you  used  to  be  such  a  timid  little 
girl,  Caroline,"  she  added,  as  if  just  remem- 
bering. "What  has  made  the  difference?" 

"  Christian  Science,"  said  Caroline,  softly, 
and  Mabelle  nodded  her  head  several  times, 
in  approval. 


What  Margie  Knew 

ARGIE  sat  on  the  steps  waiting 
for  Papa  to  come  home.  It  was 
almost  dark  and  Margie  was 
only  seven  years  old;  but  it 
was  her  birthday  and  she  felt 
very  sure  that  Papa  would  have  a  gift  for  her 
when  he  jumped  off  of  the  car  down  at  the 
corner,  so  she  did  not  want  to  go  into  the 
house  until  he  came. 

It  kept  getting  darker  and  darker,  and  there 
were  ten  steps  to  climb  to  the  front  door  if  one 
should  want  to  go  in  very  quickly,  and  Margie 
kept  turning  around  to  see  if  the  door  was  still 
a  little  way  open,  as  she  had  left  it.  It  seemed 
to  her  that  Papa  was  very  late  indeed;  but 
every  car  went  right  by  the  corner  without 
stopping  to  let  him  off. 

"  I'm  not  at  all  afraid,"  said  Margie,  look- 
ing up  at  the  door,  "  at  least,  I  don't  think  I 


WHAT  MARGIE   KNEW 


am,  but  I  wish  he  would  come.    There  isn't 
a  single  man  in  sight." 

Just  then  a  man  did  come  in  sight.  He  came 
around  the  corner  down  by  the  street  car,  and 
walked  slowly  along  the  street  looking  up  at 
the  houses.  As  he  drew  near,  Margie  saw  that 
he  was  not  a  nice  looking  man  at  all  and  he 
had  a  big  basket  on  his  arm,  with  a  piece  of 
black  oil-cloth  thrown  over  it. 

Margie  looked  back  at  the  door  and  then  up 
at  the  man.  He  was  coming  very  near  her, 
and  was  staring  at  her  very  hard  indeed.  His 
clothes  were  shabby  and  he  had  a  big  black 
beard,  and  the  basket  with  the  black  cover  was 
such  a  great  large  one.  Margie  remembered  all 
the  stories  she  had  been  told  about  little  girls 
being  stolen  away  from  their  homes,  and  she 
started  to  spring  to  her  feet.  Then  suddenly 
she  remembered  what  Mamma  had  told  her 
that  morning.  "  All  of  God's  children  love 
each  other."  That  was  what  Mamma  had  said. 
This  man  was  God's  child  just  as  much  as  she 
was ;  she  knew  that,  so  she  sat  quite  still  wait- 
ing for  him  to  pass. 

27 


THE    GREY    STORY    BOOK 


But  he  didn't  pass,  and  her  face  grew  very 
white  as  he  stopped  right  in  front  of  her  and 
bent  down  to  look  into  her  face. 

"  He's  God's  child.  He's  God's  child.  He's 
God's  child,"  she  kept  whispering  to  herself, 
and  then  suddenly  all  of  the  fear  left  her, 
though  a  moment  before  she  had  longed  to 
scream  and  fly  up  the  steps  to  the  door. 

Then  the  man  spoke.  "  Is  your  name  Mar- 
gie, little  girl?  "  he  asked,  and  his  voice  was 
so  soft  and  kind  behind  the  big  black  beard, 
that  Margie  looked  up  into  his  face  and  smiled. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  she  said. 

"  And  what  is  your  last  name?  "  he  asked, 
setting  down  the  basket  and  beginning  to 
loosen  the  cover. 

"  Green.  I'm  Margie  Green,"  she  replied, 
her  eyes  on  the  basket. 

"  That's  it.  That's  the  name,"  said  the  man, 
smiling.  "  I've  got  something  for  you  here, 
but  didn't  know  whether  I  was  going  to  find 
you  or  not.  Your  papa  bought  it  for  you  this 
morning  and  asked  me  to  bring  it  to  you,"  and 
he  reached  into  the  basket  and  drew  out  the 
28 


WHAT  MARGIE  KNEW 


most  beautiful  little  curly  white  puppy  that 
Margie  had  ever  seen.  Such  a  darling  little 
round,  pink-nosed,  bundle  of  white  floss  that 
she  fairly  screamed  with  delight. 

"  Oh,  is  it  for  me?  Did  Papa  really  get  it 
for  me?  Oh,  you  dear,  dear  little  doggie!" 
and  she  held  out  her  arms  for  it. 

The  man  put  it  gently  into  them.  "  I'm  glad 
you  were  out  here,"  he  said,  "  for  I  didn't  know 
how  I  was  going  to  find  you.  I  lost  the  card 
your  papa  gave  me,  that  told  me  where  to 
bring  it;  but  I  remembered  your  first  name, 
because  my  little  girl's  name  is  Margie,  too; 
and  beside,  your  papa  said  that  your  hair  was 
as  fine  and  curly  as  this  little  fellow's,  only 
that  it  was  yellow  instead  of  white.  I  knew 
that  the  card  said  this  street,  but  I  don't  believe 
that  I  would  ever  have  found  the  place  if  you 
hadn't  been  out  here.  It's  pretty  dark  for  you 
to  be  here  alone,  weren't  you  afraid?  " 

The  puppy  was  nestling  his  warm  curly  head 

close  into  Margie's  neck  and  the  little   girl 

hugged  him  tight  and  looked  up  at  the  black 

bearded  man,  happily.     "  I  was  a  little  bit 

29 


THE    GREY    STORY    BOOK 


afraid  at  first,"  she  said  brightly,  "  but  just 
as  soon  as  I  realized  that  you  are  God's  child, 
I  couldn't  be  afraid  any  more." 

The  man  patted  her  on  the  head  and  went 
away  smiling  and  Margie  climbed  the  steps 
still  hugging  her  new  pet  and  whispering  to 
him :  "  You  dear,  dear  doggie,  of  course  God 
wouldn't  let  me  run  away  from  you,  and  I  am 
so  glad  that  I  remembered  that  everybody  is 
God's  child." 

And  that  night  when  she  and  the  curly  pet 
sat  on  Papa's  knee  and  she  told  him  all  about 
it,  he  hugged  her  lovingly  and  said :  "  I  think 
that  we  will  give  this  small  dog  the  name  of 
'  Brave,'  to  make  us  think  of  the  little  girl 
who,  because  she  knew  the  truth,  could  not 
be  afraid." 


How  Walter  was  Treed 


AVE  you  the  bags  for  the  nuts, 
Mattie?" 

"Yes,    and    Helen    has    the 
luncheon  basket.    What  are  you 
going  to  do  with  that  long  pole, 
Walter?  " 

"  I'm  going  to  use  it  to  knock  down  nuts. 
I'm  not  a  very  good  climber,  we  don't  have 
much  chance  to  climb,  in  the  city.  The 
country  boys  out  here  make  me  feel  awfully 
ashamed ;  but  I'm  learning  how,  and  next  year 
I'll  be  as  good  as  any  of  them.  I'm  not  afraid, 
now,  only  I  get  sort  of  dizzy  and  shaky  when 
I  get  up  high." 

The  girls  laughed.  Mattie  had  been  brought 
up  in  the  country  and  was  not  afraid  of  any- 
thing on  the  farm,  and  she  thought  it  was  great 
fun  to  go  about  with  her  two  city  cousins,  who 
were  both  a  little  older  than  she,  and  show 
them  how  brave  she  was.  To-day  they  were 
31 


THE  GREY  STORY  BOOK 


going  nutting,  and  expected  to  spend  the 
entire  day  in  the  woods,  gathering  chestnuts, 
hickory  nuts  and  walnuts  for  the  city  children 
to  take  home  with  them  on  the  morrow. 

It  was  only  about  a  mile  to  the  woods,  and 
though  they  had  a  rather  late  start,  yet  by 
noon  their  bags  were  nearly  full,  and  they  sat 
down  under  a  big  chestnut  tree  to  eat  their 
luncheon.  . 

"I  think  we  have  a  fine  lot!"  exclaimed 
Helen,  patting  one  of  the  fat  bags,  "  only  we 
have  so  few  chestnuts.  I  did  want  a  lot  of 
chestnuts  for  Hallowe'en.  Just  look  at  them, 
up  in  the  top  of  this  tree.  Oh,  dear,  if  we 
could  only  reach  them !  " 

"  The  next  frost  will  bring  them  just  rattling 
down,"  said  Mattie,  "  but  you'll  be  gone  home 
by  that  time.  It's  too  bad." 

"  Can't  you  reach  some  more  with  the  pole, 
Walter?  "  asked  Helen. 

"  No,"  said  Walter,  ruefully.  "  I've  thrashed 
the  tree  just  as  high  as  I  can  reach.  I'll  tell 
you  what  I'll  do ;  I'll  climb  it." 

"No,  don't!"  exclaimed  Helen,  hastily 
32 


HOW   WALTER   WAS   TREED 


"  We've  got  enough,  plenty.  Please  don't 
climb  it,  Walter." 

"  Yes,"  said  Walter,  decidedly,  "  I'm  going 
to.  If  I  can  get  up  to  the  first  branches,  I 
guess  I'll  be  all  right,  and  then  I  can  shake 
the  boughs  as  I  climb  higher." 

"Oh,  please  don't,  Walter,"  cried  Helen, 
clutching  his  arm.  "You'll  be  sure  to  get 
dizzy  up  there,  and  then  you'll  fall." 

"  Helen !  "  exclaimed  Walter,  turning  to  her 
quickly,  "you  ought  not  to  say  things  like 
that,  and  you  a  Christian  Scientist.  I'm  sur- 
prised at  you." 

Helen  dropped  his  arm  and  swallowed  a  sob. 
"  Well,"  she  said,  "  I  won't  say  any  more,  but 
I  do  wish  you  wouldn't  go  up,  Walter." 

Walter  laughed  and  patted  her  on  the 
shoulder.  "  You're  too  careful  of  me,  Sis,"  he 
said,  affectionately,  and  began  to  climb  the 
tree. 

"  There's  no  danger,"  he  called  out,  pres- 
ently ;  "  hold  your  aprons  ready,  for  it's  going 
to  rain  chestnuts  in  about  a  minute." 

And  so  it  did.  The  chestnut  burrs  had 
33 


THE    GREY    STORY    BOOK 


cracked,  and  as  the  limbs  were  shaken,  the 
glossy  brown  nuts  came  pattering  thickly 
down  upon  the  dry  leaves. 

Helen  forgot  her  fear  in  the  excitement  of 
filling  the  luncheon  basket,  for  all  the  bags 
were  now  stuffed  to  their  utmost.  "  Come  on 
down  now,  Walter,"  she  called  in  a  few  min- 
utes. "  We  have  plenty,  all  we  can  carry." 

"  All  right,"  answered  Walter,  and  there  was 
a  rustling  and  scratching  among  the  branches. 
Presently  the  sounds  ceased.  Helen  noticed 
it. 

"  Come  on,  Walter,"  she  called,  again ;  "  we 
can't  carry  any  more." 

"  All  right,  in  a  minute,"  came  from  up  in 
the  tree,  and  then  all  was  silent  again  for  a 
time. 

The  girls  sat  on  the  grass  chatting  for  a 
few  moments,  and  then  Helen  grew  impatient 
and  getting  up,  approached  the  tree,  coming 
close  to  the  trunk  and  peering  up  into  the 
branches.  "  Walter,"  she  called,  "  why  don't 
you  come?" 

Walter  was  sitting  on  one  of  the  boughs 
34 


HOW   WALTER   WAS  TREED 


high  up  in  the  tree,  with  his  arms  clasped 
tightly  about  the  trunk  and  his  eyes  closed. 

"Oh,  Walter!"  cried  Helen,  in  dismay, 
"  you're  dizzy,  I  know  you  are,  and  you'll  fall 
and  get  killed.  I  knew  how  it  would  be  when 
you  went  up  there." 

Walter  did  not  open  his  eyes ;  but  he  called 
down  in  a  very  sober  voice :  "  Helen,  if  that's 
what  you've  been  thinking,  and  what  you're 
thinking  now,  you'd  just  better  begin  to  think 
the  other  way  as  quick  as  ever  you  can.  Can't 
you  see  that  it's  you,  more  than  anything  else, 
that's  making  me  feel  this  way?  I  have  hardly 
a  bit  of  trouble  when  I'm  out  with  the  boys. 
I'm  trying  to  work  in  Science  so  that  my  head 
will  be  clear  again,  and  you  might  just  as  well 
take  that  pole  and  try  to  poke  me  off  of  this 
branch  as  to  stand  there  thinking  that  sort  of 
thing.  You  know  how  to  work  in  Science; 
why  don't  you  try  to  help  me  to  feel  all  right, 
instead  of  helping  me  to  tumble?  " 

Helen  bravely  choked  back  her  sobs.  "  Oh, 
Walter,  I  didn't  think ! "  she  exclaimed  peni- 
tently. "  Of  course  I'll  help  you.  God  is  tak- 
35 


THE    GREY    STORY    BOOK 


ing  care  of  you,  you  know.  It's  only  mortal 
mind  that  says  you're  dizzy,  and  mortal  mind 
doesn't  know  anything,  and  can't  tell  anything 
but  lies.  It  really  isn't  anything  but  a  lie, 
itself.  You're  God's  child,  and  God  always 
takes  care  of  His  children  when  they  trust 
Him."  Helen  stopped  for  breath. 

"  Walter,"  called  Mattie,  "  are  you  saying 
the  Scientific  Statement  of  Being?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Walter. 

"  Well,  then  you  know  you  are  spiritual  and 
not  made  of  matter,  and  Spirit  can't. be  dizzy 
or  fall,  can  it?  " 

Walter  opened  his  eyes.  "  No,  it  can't,"  he 
said  stoutly,  "  and  I  can't,  either,"  and  he  began 
climbing  carefully  down  the  tree.  The  girls 
did  not  watch  him,  but  kept  on  doing  their 
work,  silently,  until  he  dropped  safely  to  the 
ground  beside  them. 

"  I'm  all  right,"  he  said,  stretching  his  arms 
and  limbs,  gratefully.  "  Just  as  soon  as  you 
girls  began  helping  me  instead  of  hindering 
me,  I  had  no  more  trouble.  Much  obliged  to 
you." 

36 


HOW   WALTER   WAS  TREED 


Helen  gave  him  a  little  hug.  "  I've  had  a  les- 
son, Walter,"  she  said  earnestly,  "  and  I  never 
will  think  error  at  you  again,  nor  at  anybody 
else.  If  anything  had  happened  to  you,  it 
would  have  been  all  my  fault." 

"  Not  all  your  fault,"  he  said,  patting  her 
shoulder,  lovingly.  "  I  ought  to  have  been  so 
sure  of  the  truth  that  your  thought  couldn't 
hurt  me;  but  you  were  helping  mortal  mind 
instead  of  me,  and  you  should  help  your  only 
brother,  instead  of  an  old  fibber  and  know- 
nothing  like  that,"  and  he  gave  her  ear  a  little 
tweak. 

Just  then  Mattie,  whose  lips  had  been  twitch- 
ing for  some  time,  burst  into  a  merry  peal  of 
laughter.  "  Oh,  Walter !  "  she  gasped,  "  if  you 
only  knew  what  you  made  me  think  of  while 
you  were  up  there!  I  wanted  to  laugh,  even 
though  I  was  so  frightened,"  and  she  gave  way 
to  another  peal  of  laughter. 

"Well,  what  was  it?"  asked  Walter,  grin- 
ning ruefully.  "  I  know  I  must  have  seemed 
awfully  silly." 

"  Oh,  it  wasn't  that ;  but  —  but  —  did  you 
37 


THE    GREY    STORY    BOOK 


ever  see  a  cat  on  the  top  of  a  telegraph  pole, 
afraid  to  come  down?  Oh,  dear,  I  kept  think- 
ing of  that  all  the  time  until  I  almost  expected 
you  to  cry  '  meow  ' !"  and  Mattie  dropped  down 
upon  the  ground,  overcome  with  laughter,  in 
which  the  other  children  joined  heartily. 

"Well,"  said  Walter,  as  soon  as  he  could 
get  his  breath,  "  if  you  ever  see  me  believing 
error  again  like  that,  just  you  saw  '  meow,' 
and  I'll  remember  the  cat  on  the  telegraph 
pole,  and  I'll  brace  up  and  give  Mr.  Mortal 
Mind  his  walking  papers.  It  isn't  the  first 
time  that  I've  been  treed  by  mortal  mind,  but 
it's  the  last.  Now  come  on,  girls,  it's  time  to 
go  home." 

The  children  gathered  up  their  bags  and 
baskets  and  set  out  for  the  farm-house.  The 
distance  was  not  long,  but  as  they  were  heavily 
loaded  it  seemed  much  greater  than  when  they 
came  out  in  the  morning. 

As  they  neared  the  last  field  Mattie  dropped 
her  bag  of  hickory  nuts  upon  the  ground. 
"  Let's  go  through  the  five-acre  lot,"  she  said. 


HOW   WALTER   WAS  TREED 


"  What  for?  "  asked  Walter.  "  It  is  hardly 
a  bit  nearer,  and  we  will  have  two  fences  to 
climb  instead  of  one." 

"  And,  beside,"  put  in  Helen,  "  the  cattle  are 
hi  there,  and  Uncle  Jim  says  that  some  of  them 
are  dangerous,  and  that  we  are  not  to  go  into 
that  lot  at  all." 

But  Mattie  stood  still,  one  foot  on  the  lower 
rail  of  the  fence.  "  I'm  not  afraid,"  she  said. 
"  They  probably  wouldn't  notice  us  at  all.  I'm 
going  this  way,  but  you  two  can  do  as  you 
choose.  I'm  a  Christian  Scientist  and  nothing 
can  hurt  me,  you  know  that.  Come  and  help 
me  put  my  bag  over  the  fence,  Walter." 

But  Walter  stood  looking  at  her,  doubtfully. 
"  There  isn't  any  reason  why  you  should  go 
that  way,  Mattie,"  he  said. 

"Well,  I  don't  care  if  there  isn't,"  said 
Mattie,  sharply.  "  I  want  to  go  this  way, 
and  I  shall.  You  needn't  help  me  if  you 
don't  wish  to,"  and  she  began  trying  to  hoist 
the  bag  of  nuts  over  the  fence. 

Walter  came  slowly  forward  and  took  hold 


THE    GREY    STORY    BOOK 


of  the  bag.  "  I  don't  think  you  are  right, 
Mattie,"  he  said,  soberly.  "  Let's  sit  down  and 
rest  and  talk  it  over  for  a  few  minutes." 

Mattie  let  go  of  the  bag  and  seated  herself 
on  the  grass  rather  sullenly. 

"  Now,"  said  Walter,  "  what  is  it  that  wants 
you  to  go  across  that  field?  Is  it  Truth  or 
error?  " 

"  Why,"  said  Mattie,  stoutly,  "  it's  Truth,  of 
course.  I  want  to  prove  to  you  that  Christian 
Scientists  are  not  afraid." 

"  No,"  said  Walter,  thoughtfully,  "  I  think 
it's  error.  You  want  to  prove  that  you  are 
not  afraid,  not  that  God  will  take  care  of  you, 
for  we  know  that  already.  Now,  isn't  that 
so?  I  think  we  have  to  use  common  sense  in 
Science,  and  not  go  into  danger  just  to  show 
off.  You  know  that  Jesus  wouldn't  throw 
himself  down  from  the  high  place,  but  said 
'  thou  shalt  not  tempt.'  " 

"  But  suppose  we  had  to  go  across  the  field," 
said  Mattie,  stubbornly. 

"That  would  be  very  different,"  said  Wal- 
ter. "  If  we  had  to  do  it,  and  there  wasn't  any 
40 


HOW   WALTER   WAS   TREED 


other  way,  we  would  climb  over  and  go  right 
straight  across,  and  work  in  Science,  to  know 
that  God  was  protecting  us,  all  the  way;  but 
when  there  isn't  any  reason  for  going  that  way, 
I  don't  think  it  would  be  right.  What  do  you 
think,  Helen?" 

"I  think  it  is  error  that's  telling  her  to," 
said  Helen,  confidently,  "especially  as  Uncle 
Jim  said  that  we  were  not  to  go  into  that  field, 
and  if  she  goes,  she  will  be  disobeying  him." 

"  Yes,  we  have  to  learn  to  be  obedient,  too," 
said  Walter. 

"  But,"  argued  Mattie,  "  suppose  there  was 
a  little  bit  of  a  child  over  in  the  field,  would  it 
be  error  to  disobey  and  go  and  save  it?  " 

Walter  laughed.  "We  don't  have  to  sup- 
pose any  of  those  things,"  he  said.  "If  the 
child  was  there,  God  would  let  us  know  what 
was  the  best  thing  to  do,  if  we  had  our  hearts 
open  to  Him.  Come  on,  Mattie,"  and  he  rose 
to  his  feet,  "  you  don't  want  to  go  across  there. 
It  wouldn't  look  brave  to  me,  at  all,  it  would 
only  look  conceited  and  foolish." 

Mattie  chewed  a  blade  of  grass  for  a  moment, 
41 


THE    GREY    STORY    BOOK 


thoughtfully,  then  her  face  brightened  again 
and  she  jumped  up.  "  All  right,"  she  said, 
cheerfully,  "  I  guess  error  was  trying  to  handle 
me,  and  I  was  trying  to  make  myself  believe 
that  it  was  Truth.  I  was  always  doing  things 
like  that  before  I  knew  about  Science,  and  I 
guess  I  was  just  making  Science  an  excuse  for 
showing  off  this  time.  Well,  Walter,  every 
time  that  I  say  'meow'  to  you,  you  can  say 
'  moo-o-o '  to  me,  and  I'll  think  of  the  cattle 
and  remember.  Come  on,  it's  almost  supper 
time,  and  there's  going  to  be  sponge  cake  and 
floating  island." 

"  Well,"  said  Helen,  as  she  lifted  her  basket 
of  chestnuts,  "  I've  had  two  lessons  to-day,  and 
I  have  another  to  learn  between  here  and  the 
house." 

"  What  is  it?  "  asked  Walter. 

Helen  glanced  down  at  her  basket  and  then 
smiled.  "Well,  I  thought  this  basket  was 
going  to  be  as  heavy  as  it  was  when  I  set  it 
down  —  but  as  soon  as  I  thought  of  to  whom 
the  'weary  and  heavy  laden '  are  to  go,  and 
realized  that  Christ  is  Understanding,  and  that 
42 


HOW   WALTER   WAS  TREED 


it  meant  for  us  just  to  know  the  truth,  that 
God's  child  can't  be  tired,  it  don't  seem  heavy 
at  all  any  more." 

"  '  I'll  drop  my  burden  at  His  feet, 

And  bear  a  song  away,'  " 

sang  Mattie,  and  as  she  started  another  verse, 
the  other  two  joined  in,  and  they  walked  on 
across  the  meadow,  singing  happily  together. 


•13 


The  Grey  and  White  Kitten. 

[AMMA,    oh,    Mamma,    do    come 
here !  "  called  Jessie. 

"  Your  mamma  has  gone  out, 
Miss  Jessie,"  said  Katie,  the 
maid,  coming  to  the  kitchen 
door.  "  She  said  to  tell  you  that  she  would 
be  home  by  six  o'clock." 

"Oh,  dear,  what  shall  I  do?"  exclaimed 
Jessie,  the  tears  coming  into  her  eyes.  "  My 
kitty  is  sick,  awfully  sick.  She  just  lies  still 
and  cries.  I  found  her  that  way  just  now, 
when  I  came  home  from  school.  Oh,  dear,  I 
know  she'll  die!  I  know  she  will!  " 

Katie  came  and  stood  looking  down  at  the 
little  grey  and  white  kitten.  "  She  does  seem 
to  be  pretty  sick,"  she  said,  shaking  her  head. 
"  I'll  make  her  some  catnip  tea.  That's  good 
for  cats,"  and  she  turned  toward  the  kitchen 
door. 

"  Do  hurry,"  called  Jessie  after  her,  and  then 

44 


THE  GREY  AND   WHITE   KITTEN 


sat  down  on  the  floor  and  took  the  kitten  into 
her  arms.  "  You  poor  little  darling,"  she 
whispered,  "  I  know  it  hurts  just  dreadfully ; 
but  we  will  give  you  some  medicine  in  a 
minute." 

As  she  said  the  word  medicine  Jessie  started 
and  opened  her  eyes  very  widely.  "  Why," 
she  exclaimed,  "  I  can't  give  my  kitty  medi- 
cine. That  wouldn't  do  at  all.  Christian 
Science  is  the  only  thing  that  really  cures." 

Placing  the  kitten  back  on  its  cushion,  she 
ran  to  the  kitchen  door.  "  Katie,"  she  called, 
"  never  mind  about  the  catnip  tea.  We  don't 
want  it." 

"  It's  all  made,  Miss  Jessie,"  said  Katie,  lift- 
ing a  steaming  cup  in  one  hand  and  a  saucer 
of  milk  in  the  other.  "  We'll  put  some  in  the 
milk  and  she'll  drink  it,  I  guess." 

Jessie  glanced  back  at  the  little  kitten,  which 
was  mewing  very  pitifully,  but  stood  her 
ground,  sturdily.  "  No,"  she  said,  "  Mamma 
will  treat  her  in  Christian  Science  when  she 
comes  home." 

Katie  shook  her  head.  "  She  won't  be  alive 
45 


THE    GREY    STORY    BOOK 


when  your  Mamma  gets  home,  likely  as  not. 
It's  only  half-past  four  now.  Better  let  me 
give  her  some  of  this.  I  don't  like  to  see  her 
suffer." 

"  No,"  Jessie  turned  back  and  sat  down 
beside  the  little  cushion.  "I'll  treat  her 
myself,"  she  said,  firmly.  "  Please  go  out  and 
leave  me  alone  with  her,  Katie.  Thank  you 
ever  so  much  for  fixing  the  tea,  though." 

Katie  went  out,  without  a  word,  and  Jessie 
bowed  her  head  upon  her  hands  and  tried  to 
think  how  to  begin;  but  the  kitten's  moans 
grew  more  and  more  piteous  and  heart-rending, 
so  that  the  little  girl  had  to  put  her  fingers  into 
her  ears  to  shut  out  the  mournful  cries. 

"  Poor  little  thing !  Poor  little  thing !  "  she 
kept  saying  to  herself,  dismally.  "  She's 
awfully  sick  and  I  don't  know  how  to  go  to 
work  to  help  her.  I  can't  remember  a  thing, 
and  I  just  expect  she'll  die  before  Mamma  gets 
home.  Oh,  dear !  "  and  she  removed  her  fingers 
from  her  ears  to  feel  for  her  handkerchief,  just 
as  a  particularly  piteous  mew  came  from  the 


!'> 


THE  GREY  AND  WHITE  KITTEN 


little  cat.  This  was  too  much,  and  burying  her 
face  in  the  cushion  beside  the  kitten,  she  began 
to  sob. 

"  Oh,  my  kitty,  my  kitty,  I'm  so  sorry  for 
you ! "  she  wailed.  "  Oh,  dear,  I  ought  to  be 
treating  you!  You're  not  sick  at  all,  kitty, 
you  really  are  not.  Oh,  you  poor,  poor  little 
kitten !  " 

Just  here  there  came  a  giggle  from  the 
doorway.  Jessie  looked  up  with  flashing  eyes, 
to  see  her  brother  standing  there,  looking  in, 
a  broad  grin  upon  his  face. 

"  Why,  Carl  Ferry,"  she  exclaimed,  angrily, 
"  you  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yourself,  to  stand 
there,  laughing,  and  my  poor  kitten  sick  and 
dying!" 

Carl's  face  sobered.  "  Well,  what  were  you 
trying  to  do  when  I  came?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  was  treating  it  in  Christian  Science,"  said 
Jessie,  forlornly.  "  Mamma  is  away  and  — 
oh  dear  —  I  don't  seem  to  do  it  any  good  at 
all!" 

"  Do   you   call   that   treating   in    Christian 


THE    GREY    STORY    BOOK 


Science,  the  way  you  were  talking  when  I 
came?  Well,  you're  very  much  mistaken  if 
you  do,"  said  Carl,  bluntly. 

"  Why,  I  said  she  wasn't  sick,"  rejoined 
Jessie,  in  a  hurt  tone. 

"  So  you  did,"  said  Carl,  "  and  before  and 
after  it,  you  said  how  sorry  you  were  for  her. 
What  are  you  sorry  for,  if  she  isn't  really 
sick?  " 

Jessie  hung  her  head. 

"  You  know  better  than  that,  Jessie,"  went 
on  Carl,  more  gently.  "  I'm  sorry  I  laughed ; 
but  it  did  sound  funny  for  a  Science  girl  to 
talk  that  way  and  hope  to  do  any  good.  I'll 
go  now,  and  you  try  again,  and  know  the  truth 
while  you're  saying  it.  Don't  just  repeat  the 
words  like  a  parrot." 

Carl  walked  away  from  the  door,  and  Jessie 
hid  her  face  in  her  hands  again.  "  Dear  God, 
please  — "  she  began.  "  No,  that's  the  way  I 
used  to  pray  before  I  learned  about  Science, 
and  now  I  just  have  to  know  the  truth,  instead 
of  coaxing  God  to  do  things ;  and  the  truth  is 


THE  GREY   AND   WHITE   KITTEN 


that  God  has  already  done  everything  good  for 
me,  and  what  I  have  to  do  is  to  realize  it. 
I  have  to  realize  that  my  kitten  isn't  sick, 
because  everything  God  does  is  good,  and  it 
isn't  good  that  a  little  kitten  should  be  in  pain. 
Then  God  didn't  do  it.  Nobody  did  it,  so  it 
can't  be  sick.  Kitty,  you  really  and  truly  aren't 
sick  and  I  know  you're  not." 

Jessie  sat  for  a  long  time,  thinking  over  what 
she  had  been  taught  in  Science,  and  then  she 
put  her  face  down  on  the  cushion  beside  the 
little  cat,  which  had  grown  quiet,  and  thought 
some  more  about  how  good  God  is,  to  do  all 
things  for  us,  and  make  everything  smooth  if 
we  only  have  trust  enough  to  know  it,  and 
then  she  went  off  to  sleep. 

When  Mamma  came  home  she  found  her 
there,  with  the  kitten  just  waking  up  and 
stretching  and  yawning  and  catching  at  the 
little  locks  of  brown,  curly  hair  that  had 
strayed  over  her. 

Jessie  sat  up  and  rubbed  her  eyes  and  then 
caught  the  playful  kitten  in  her  arms.  "  Oh, 


THE    GREY    STORY    BOOK 


Mamma,  she's  well!"  she  cried.  "Sickness 
and  other  mortal  mind  things  are  just  bad 
dreams,  aren't  they?  " 

"Yes,  dearie,"  said  Mamma,  tenderly, 
"  they  are  nothing  but  bad  dreams  and  we 
cure  them  by  knowing  that  they  are  dreams 
and  by  waking  up  to  the  truth." 


Around  the  Corner 

HERE'S    Joe    Briggs    now.     He 
peeked    around    the    corner    of 
the    fence.     I    just    saw    him." 
Frances    stopped    short    in    the 
middle  of  the  sidewalk. 
"  So  did  I,"  and  little  Bertha  caught  hold  of 
Sister  Marie's  hand  with  both  of  hers. 

Marie  stood  on  tiptoe  and  looked  toward  the 
corner  of  the  street.  "  Yes,"  she  said,  with  a 
frown,  "  and  I  can  see  the  red  tassel  of  Fred's 
cap,  over  the  top  of  the  fence.  They  are  wait- 
ing for  us  as  usual,  and  I  suppose  they  have  a 
whole  bushel  of  snow-balls." 

"  Oh,  dear,  and  they  are  such  hard  ones ! " 
wailed  Bertha. 

Marie  put  a  protecting  arm  about  her  little 
sister.  "  It's  a  shame !  "  she  exclaimed  angrily. 
"  I  just  wish  I  knew  how  to  get  even  with 
them.  It  wouldn't  be  so  bad  if  it  was  only 
once  in  a  while ;  but  every  single  night  when 


THE    GREY    STORY    BOOK 


we  go  home  from  school  they  wait  for  us  and 
pelt  us.  I've  a  notion  to  tell  Teacher." 

"  No,"  said  Frances,  "  that  would  just  make 
it  worse.  They  only  do  it  for  fun  now;  but 
if  you  told,  they  would  be  mad  and  it  would 
be  worse  than  ever.  Come  on,  let's  cross  the 
street  here,  and  then  run  as  soon  as  they  begin 
td  throw.  We'll  take  Bertha  between  us." 

"  That's  just  the  way  we  do  every  night," 
sobbed  Bertha,  "  and  it  always  frightens  me  so 
when  they  yell,  and  I  got  an  awful  bump  on  my 
head  last  night,  where  one  hit." 

"  It  makes  me  so  mad ! "  exclaimed  Marie, 
stamping  her  foot.  "  I  wouldn't  care  so  much 
if  it  wasn't  for  little  Bertha.  I'd  just  walk 
right  up  and  tell  them  what  I  think  of  them." 

"You  told  them  that  last  night  while  we 
were  running,"  laughed  Frances;  "but  they 
didn't  seem  to  mind  it  much." 

"  Oh,  they  don't  mind  anything !  They're 
too  mean.  I  think — "  Marie  stopped  in  the 
middle  of  her  sentence  and  bit  her  lip. 

"  What?  "  Frances  turned  and  looked  at  her. 


AROUND  THE  CORNER 


Marie  was  looking  down  and  digging  in  the 
snow  with  the  toe  of  her  shoe. 

"  What  did  you  say?  "  asked  Frances  again. 

Marie's  face  flushed.  "  Nothing,  only  —  I 
was  just  thinking  —  This  week's  lesson  is  on 
Love,  you  know." 

Frances  nodded  slowly.  "  No  one  would 
think  we  were  Christian  Science  children, 
would  they?" 

Marie  shook  her  head.  "  I  guess  it's  partly 
our  fault,"  she  said,  thoughtfully.  "  We  don't 
seem  to  be  reflecting  much  love." 

Frances  leaned  up  against  the  fence.  "  Let's 
find  out  what's  the  trouble,"  she  said,  "and 
see  if  we  can't  help  ourselves.  When  things 
go  wrong  it  always  means  that  mortal  mind  is 
talking  to  us,  and  we've  got  to  find  out  what 
it  is  saying,  and  then  know  that  the  opposite 
is  true." 

"  Well,  it's  telling  me  that  I'm  angry,"  said 
Marie  with  a  good  deal  of  vigor. 

"  And  it's  telling  me  that  I'm  awfully 
afraid,"  whimpered  Bertha,  still  clinging  to 
Marie's  hand. 

53 


THE    GREY    STORY    BOOK 


"And  it's  telling  me  that  there's  some  big, 
rough  boys  waiting  around  the  corner,  just  on 
purpose  to  make  us  afraid  and  angry,"  said 
Frances,  looking  grimly  down  the  street. 

"Then  if  the  opposite  of  all  this  is  true,  I 
s'pose  I've  got  to  know  that  I'm  not  angry," 
said  Marie,  slowly.  "  Of  course  I  know  it's 
only  mortal  mind  that  says  I  am ;  but  it  seems 
awfully  real."  She  caught  herself.  "  No,  it 
don't  seem  real.  It  isn't  real.  Mortal  mind 
can't  tell  me  anything,  for  it  isn't  real  itself. 
It  can't  tell  me  that  I'm  angry.  I  won't  listen 
to  it.  I'm  not,  I'm  not,  I'm  not!  Love  is  the 
opposite  of  hate,  and  I  do  love  everybody, 
everybody  there  is,  and  mortal  mind  can't 
make  me  think  any  different."  Marie  was 
doing  her  work  out  loud,  and  was  doing  it 
well  and  with  zeal. 

"  And  what's  the  opposite  of  being  afraid?  " 
asked  Bertha,  clutching  her  sister's  hand 
tighter,  as  she  saw  a  red  cap  appear  around  the 
corner  of  the  fence. 

Marie  bent  over  and  kissed  the  little  one. 
"  It's  trust,  dearie.  Trust  in  God,  that  he 
54 


AROUND  THE  CORNER 


won't  let  anything  hurt  you.  Just  keep  saying 
to  yourself  that  you  do  trust  God,  and  are  not 
afraid.  Isn't  that  right,  Frances?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Frances,  "  it  seems  so  to  me, 
and  I  suppose  that  I  have  got  to  know  that 
instead  of  rough  boys  hiding  around  the  corner, 
there's  nothing  but  mortal  mind  there,  and 
mortal  mind  can't  hurt  God's  children." 

"If  there's  only  mortal  mind  there,  then 
there  really  isn"t  anything,"  said  Marie. 

"  That's  so,"  said  Frances ;  "  but  I  guess 
I'm  getting  a  little  mixed  up;  because  there's 
surely  something  there,  and  it  looks  like  boys," 
and  she  shook  her  head  with  a  puzzled  little 
laugh. 

"  I  know  what  is  there,"  said  Marie,  sud- 
denly. "  It's  God's  children,  just  the  same  as 
we  are.  We  can't  be  angry  or  afraid  when 
there's  only  God's  children  there.  Come  on. 
I  don't  mind  it  a  bit  any  more." 

They  started  briskly  forward,  Bertha  walk- 
ing between  the  two  older  girls ;  but  they  had 
no't  advanced  far  when  Joe's  face  peered  out 
again,  and  then  a  big,  hard  snow-ball  came 
55 


THE    GREY    STORY    BOOK 


whizzing  through  the  air  and  hit  Frances'  muff, 
nearly  knocking  it  from  her  hands. 

Frances  only  laughed.  "  I'm  going  to  hoist 
a  flag  of  truce,"  she  said,  stopping  to  tie  her 
handkerchief  to  her  ruler.  "  There,  how  is 
that?  "  and  holding  it  well  in  view  they  walked 
forward  once  more. 

In  a  moment  Joe's  face  peered  around  the 
corner  again  to  see  why  the  girls  did  not 
scream  and  run,  as  they  usually  did  when  the 
attack  began.  He  was  just  aiming  another 
ball  when  he  caught  sight  of  Frances'  flag  of 
truce.  He  hesitated,  uncertain  what  to  do. 

"What's  the  matter?"  whispered  Fred. 
"  Are  they  going  back?  " 

"  No,  they're  waving  a  handkerchief  on  a 
ruler.  I  guess  it  means  truce.  Wonder  what 
they're  up  to,"  said  Joe  in  a  puzzled  tone. 

"  Well,  we'll  have  to  honor  a  flag  of  truce, 
that's  sure,"  said  Fred,  laughing,  "  especially 
when  they  were  smart  enough  to  think  of  it. 
Come  on,  let's  go  and  see  what  they  want." 

The  boys  dropped  their  snow-balls  and  came 


AROUND  THE  CORNER 


out  from  behind  the  fence.  "  What's  the  mat- 
ter? "  called  Fred,  as  the  girls  approached. 

"  We're  not  afraid  any  more,"  explained  little 
Bertha  eagerly,  before  the  others  could  speak, 
"  because  we  know  you  don't  want  to  hurt  us 
or  make  us  angry." 

The  boys  glanced  at  each  other,  and  their 
faces  flushed.  Bertha  was  such  a  very  little 
girl,  and  she  had  always  screamed  so  loudly 
when  she  ran  from  the  hail  of  snow-balls. 

Here  Marie  broke  in.  "  We  knew  you  didn't 
want  to  really  hurt  us,"  she  said  pleasantly, 
"but  just  thought  it  was  fun  to  make  us  run 
and  see  us  get  angry  and  frightened;  but  it 
wasn't  any  fun  for  us,  so  we  made  up  our 
minds  that  we  wouldn't  run  any  more,  or  say 
anything  mean.  We  knew  that  you  wouldn't 
be  ugly  to  us  if  we  did  that  way." 

The  boys  both  stood  silent,  their  faces  still 
red.  Frances  laughed  merrily :  — 

"  It's  mean  to  spoil  your  fun  this  way,  isn't 
it?  "  she  said  brightly.  "  But  really,  it  wasn't 
much  fun,  after  all,  was  it?  Last  night  one 


THE    GREY    STORY    BOOK 


of  those  hard  balls  raised  a  big  lump  on  little 
Bertha's  head,  and  she  cried  all  the  way  home. 
You  couldn't  hurt  her  to-day,  because  she 
wasn't  afraid." 

"  We're  awfully  sorry  if  we  hurt  her,"  said 
Fred,  awkwardly.  "We  really  didn't  mean 
to.  We  just  got  interested  in  the  chase,  I  sup- 
pose, and  didn't  know  how  hard  we  threw  the 
balls.  We  won't  bother  you  any  more,  will 
we,  Joe?  " 

"  No,  we  won't,"  said  Joe,  heartily.  "  We've 
been  pretty  mean  to  you,  but  it  was  just  for 
fun.  We  didn't  want  to  hurt  you.  You  needn't 
be  afraid  any  more." 

"  We're  not,"  said  Marie,  quickly.  "  We 
have  learned  better.  Good-bye,  boys,  and 
thank  you  for  being  nice  to  us." 

"Good-bye,  good-bye,"  called  Bertha  and 
Frances. 

Fred  had  been  busy  for  a  few  moments 
throwing  a  pile  of  snow-balls  off  of  the  long 
bod-sled  which  was  drawn  up  behind  the  fence. 
Now  he  brought  it  forth,  proudly. 


AROUND   THE   CORNER 


"  Jump  on,  girls,"  he  cried  gayly.  "  and  we'll 
give  you  a  ride.  We're  going  your  way,  and 
we'll  draw  you  home.  We're  on  our  way  over 
to  Black  Hill,  coasting,  and  say,  any  time  that 
you  come  out  to  the  hill,  you  come  to  us,  and 
we'll  take  you  down  on  our  sled  as  many  times 
as  you  want  to  go.  She's  the  fastest  one  on 
the  hill,  and  we  don't  generally  take  girls, 
because  they  are  always  afraid ;  but  you  won't 
be,  so  we'll  give  you  a  good  time  whenever 
you  come  out." 

The  girls  thanked  them  delightedly,  and  then 
sat  down  on  the  sled  and  in  a  moment  they 
were  spinning  down  the  street,  the  snow  from 
the  heels  of  their  kindly  steeds  flying  in  their 
faces. 

Presently  Marie  leaned  forward  over  little 
Bertha's  shoulders  and  whispered  in  Frances* 
ear:  "Well,  I've  learned  what  love  can  do. 
Isn't  it  wonderful?  " 

Frances  turned  her  head  and  replied,  softly, 
"Yes,  and  I  have  learned  that  'the  truth  is 
my  shield  and  buckler/  " 


THE    GREY    STORY    BOOK 


"  And  what  have  you  learned,  dearie? " 
whispered  Marie,  tightening  her  arms  about 
her  little  sister. 

"  That  being  afraid  isn't  anything,"  gasped 
Bertha,  her  face  shining  with  happiness  and  the 
cold  wind,  "  and  that  Joe  and  Fred  are  awfully 
nice,  kind  boys,  and  I  wish  it  was  ten  miles  to 
our  house." 


Who  Owned  the  Rabbit? 

I'LL  give  you  a  quarter  for  him, 
Jim." 

Jimmie  pursed  up  his  lips  and 
shook  his  head,  while  he  hugged 
close  to  his  breast  a  little  pant- 
ing white  rabbit  with  the  longest  of  ears  and 
the  pinkest  of  eyes. 
"  No,  I  can't,  Paul." 

"  Why  not?  "  and  Paul  wrinkled  his  brow 
quite  savagely.  "  He  isn't  yours,  anyway." 

"  I  know  it,  but  I  ran  the  fastest  and  caught 
him,  and,  if  I  had  not  got  him  just  when  I  did, 
Brown's  dog  would  have  fairly  eaten  him  up. 
poor  little  fellow,"  and  Jimmie  stroked  the 
little  thing  affectionately. 

"  Well,  of  course  you  have  the  best  right  to 
him,"  acknowledged  Fred,  "but,  you  see,  you 
live  right  in  this  block  where  we  found  him, 
«o  he  belongs  to  some  one  near  here,  and  if 
you  keep  him,  folks  will  hear  about  it  and  take 
him  away  from  you." 

61 


THE    GREY    STORY    BOOK 


Jimmie  opened  his  eyes  very  widely. 

"  Why,  what  did  you  boys  think  that  I  was 
going  to  do  with  him?  "  he  asked  in  surprise. 

"  Keep  him,  of  course,"  exclaimed  both  boys, 
and  "  Don't  you  like  rabbits?  "  added  Fred. 

"  Yes,  I  like  rabbits,"  replied  Jimmie  slowly. 
"I  have  been  just  longing  for  months  and 
months  to  have  a  dear  little  white  fellow  like 
this,  but  this  one  isn't  mine,  you  know.  I'll 
have  to  find  out  where  he  belongs  and  take 
him  home." 

"  O  pshaw !  "  exclaimed  Fred,  "  don't  you  do 
it.  Sell  him  to  Paul  for  a  quarter  and  you  can 
buy  that  set  of  crayons  that  you  wanted,  and 
no  one  will  know  a  thing  about  it,  for  Paul 
lives  so  far  away  that  no  one  will  ever  recog- 
nize the  rabbit." 

"  Come  on,  Jimmie,  let  me  have  him.  I'll 
give  you  my  box  kite,  too,"  coaxed  Paul. 

But  Jimmie  only  stroked  the  fluffy  white  ball 
that  nestled  so  closely  in  his  arms. 

"  No,  boys,  I  am  going  to  begin  right  here 
and  go  to  every  house  in  the  block  until  I  find 
out  where  he  belongs.  I  wouldn't  steal  him," 
62 


WHO  OWNED   THE   RABBIT? 


indignantly,  "but  I  do  want  him  awfully," 
with  a  big  sigh. 

"  It  wouldn't  be  stealing,  when  you  found 
him,  and  Brown's  dog  would  have  killed  him 
if  it  hadn't  been  for  you,  but  go  on,  be  a  baby 
if  you  want  to.  Come,  Paul,  let's  leave  him  to 
look  for  Bunny's  mamma;  he  is  worse  than 
any  girl,"  and  the  two  boys  ran  off  down  the 
street. 

Jimmie  swallowed  the  choke  in  his  throat, 
and,  with  the  rabbit  in  his  arms,  climbed  the 
steps  of  the  nearest  house,  rang  the  bell,  and 
inquired  if  any  one  there  had  lost  a  white 
rabbit.  No  one  had,  nor  in  the  next  house, 
nor  the  next.  However,  Jimmie  kept  bravely 
on,  climbing  the  steps  of  every  house  on  both 
sides  of  the  street  for  the  whole  length  of  the 
block,  but  to  no  purpose;  no  one  seemed  to 
own  the  rabbit,  and  at  last  Jimmie  sat  down  on 
the  steps  of  his  own  home,  still  hugging  the 
homeless  rabbit  and  thinking  that  he  would 
rest  for  a  few  minutes  and  then  try  the  next 
block. 

"  I  am  not  tired,"  said  Jimmie  sturdily  t<7 
63 


THE    GREY    STORY    BOOK 


himself,  as  he  stroked  the  rabbit  lovingly. 
"  God's  child  can't  be  tired,  for  He  said  so, 
and  the  little  bunny  isn't  lost,  either.  Nothing 
can  be  lost,  in  God's  world,  and  I  ought  to 
know  it.  Now,  Bunny,  don't  you  worry,  for 
you  have  a  nice  home,  and  God  knows  just 
where  it  is,  and  where  you  are,  so  you  needn't 
ever  think  you're  lost."  He  hid  his  face  for  a 
moment  in  the  soft  fur.  "  We're  glad  we  know 
Christian  Science,  aren't  we,  Bunny?"  he 
whispered,  "  for  then  we  know  we  are  always 
safe,  and  never  tired  or  afraid." 

Just  then  the  door  behind  him  opened  and 
he  heard  Uncle  Harry's  voice  speaking  to 
Mamma : 

"  I  am  very  sorry  that  it  happened.  Don't 
tell  Jimmie,  for  he  would  be  so  disappointed. 
You  see,  it  was  of  an  extra  fine  breed  and  I 
paid  a  good  price  for  it,  for  I  knew  that  he 
had  been  wanting  one  for  so  long,  and  then  to 
think  that  it  should  escape  from  the  yard  while 
I  was  looking  for  a  box  for  him  to  keep  it  in. 
It  is  too  bad." 

Jimmie's  eyes  grew  big  as  he  listened,  but 
64 


WHO  OWNED   THE   RABBIT? 


Uncle  Harry's  grew  bigger  when  a  moment 
later,  he  turned  and  saw  Jimmie  sitting  on  the 
steps  with  the  white  rabbit  in  his  arms. 

Then  followed  the  explanations  of  how  Uncle 
Harry  had  bought  the  rabbit  for  Jimmie,  and 
how  it  had  escaped,  and  Jimmie  told  how  he 
had  saved  it  from  Brown's  dog  and  then 
scoured  the  neighborhood  to  find  its  owner. 

"  And  to  think,"  said  he,  hugging  his  treas- 
ure, "  that  I  was  your  owner  all  the  time,  and 
just  suppose  that  I  had  sold  you  to  Paul  for 
a  quarter?  " 


The  Skates  and  Charley 

UT,  Uncle  Fred,  it  isn't  the  least 
bit  of  use  for  you  to  do  it.  You 
could  offer  me  ten  pairs  of  skates 
if  I  would  stand  eighty-five  per 
cent  in  arithmetic  examination, 
and  it  wouldn't  make  the  least  scrap  of  differ- 
ence. I  don't  know  fractions  and  I  never  will, 
and  it's  no  use  to  try,"  and  Charley  threw  his 
book  half-way  across  the  table  and  sent  his 
tablet  and  pencil  after  it,  in  disgust. 

"  That's  too  bad,"  said  Uncle  Fred,  soberly. 
"  I  always  thought  that  you  were  as  smart  as 
other  boys  of  your  age.  You  see,  it  means 
not  only  the  loss  of  the  skates,  but  I  can't  see 
how  you  can  ever  keep  a  store  like  your  papa's, 
when  you  grow  up,  if  you  don't  know  arith- 
metic." 

"Well,  I  can't  help  it,"  said  Charley,  dis- 
mally. "  I  can  get  geography  and  spelling  and 


66 


THE  SKATES  AND  CHARLEY 


reading  and  everything  else ;  but  I  can't  under- 
stand arithmetic.  I  can  learn  just  to  say  the 
rules  as  they  are  written,  but  they  don't  seem 
to  mean  anything  to  me." 

Uncle  Fred  got  up  to  leave  the  room. 
"  Well,"  he  said,  "  my  offer  of  the  skates  is 
still  open,  and  you  need  them  pretty  badly, 
for  your  old  ones  are  too  small,  and  not  very 
good,  anyway.  If  you  can  win  the  new  ones 
in  the  December  examinations,  they  will  be 
the  very  finest  that  I  can  find  in  the  city." 

"  It  isn't  any  use,"  repeated  Charley, 
gloomily. 

Uncle  Fred  stopped  as  he  reached  the  door, 
and  turned  around  with  a  queer  little  smile. 
"How  about  that  headache-  you  had  this 
morning?  "  he  asked. 

"  Mamma  used  Christian  Science  for  it," 
replied  Charley,  quickly.  "  It  was  almost  gone 
when  I  went  to  school,  and  I  handled  it  myself 
until  I  forgot  all  about  it." 

Uncle  Fred  smiled  again.  "  And  isn't  Chris- 
tian Science  good  for  —  for  — ,"  he  hesitated. 


67 


THE    GREY    STORY    BOOK 


"For  stupidity?"  suggested  Charley,  his 
face  flushing.  "  Yes,  it  is,  or  at  least,  it  ought 
to  be.  I  never  thought  of  that." 

"  I'd  try  it  if  I  were  you,"  said  Uncle  Fred, 
still  laughing  as  he  went  out  of  the  door. 

Charley  looked  after  him,  soberly.  "  Uncle 
Fred  isn't  a  Christian  Scientist,"  he  reflected, 
"  but  he  has  given  me  a  good  thought.  Of 
course  Science  ought  to  be  good  for  —  for  — 
that,  as  well  as  for  anything  else.  I'd  just  like 
to  show  him  that  Christian  Science  can  do  it." 

Charley  sat  for  quite  a  while,  thinking.  "  I'd 
like  to  do  it  all  myself  without  getting  Mamma 
to  help  me,"  he  mused.  "  She  has  told  me  so 
much  about  Science  that  I  ought  to  be  able  to 
manage  this;  but  I  don't  seem  to  know  just 
how  to  go  to  work,  except  that  I've  got  to 
know  the  truth,  and  that's  just  the  opposite  of 
anything  that  seems  disagreeable.  Mamma," 
he  called,  as  his  mother  passed  the  doorway, 
"  what  is  the  opposite  of  stupid?  " 

Mamma  stopped  and  looked  at  him  with  a 
loving  smile.    "  Perfect  understanding,  dearie," 
she  said.    "  Why?    Can  I  help  you  any?  " 
68 


THE  SKATES  AND   CHARLEY 


"  No,  thank  you,"  said  Charley,  quickly.  "  I 
just  wanted  to  know.  And  perfect  understand- 
ing is  the  truth,  then,  is  it?  " 

"  Yes.  We  reflect  God,  and  He  is  Perfect 
Understanding.  We  have  to  know  that  we  are 
His  image  and  likeness  in  every  way." 

"  Thank  you,  Mamma,  that's  all  I  wanted  to 
know,"  and  as  Mamma  passed  on  up  the  stairs, 
Charley  dropped  his  head  on  the  table.  "  Oh, 
dear !  "  he  thought,  "  I  never  could  remember 
things,  and  how  am  I  going  to  remember  '  per- 
fect understanding,'  and  about  reflecting  God, 
and  all  that,  when  they  are  such  big  words?" 
Then  suddenly  he  looked  up.  "Why,  if  I 
reflect  God  I  can't  forget  things,  and  so  I'm 
all  right.  I'll  hold  on  to  that  part  of  it, 
anyway." 

As  the  days  went  on  and  the  December 
examinations  drew  near,  Charley's  face  grew 
brighter  and  brighter,  and  Uncle  Fred  noticed 
that  instead  of  poring  over  his  books  for  an 
hour  or  so  every  evening,  he  spent  the  time 
reading  or  drawing  or  playing  parchesi  with 
his  sister;  and  that  kind  gentleman  shook  his 
69 


THE    GREY    STORY    BOOK 


head  gravely  and  said  to  himself :  "  He's 
given  up  trying.  Well,  I'm  sorry,  for  I  did 
hope  that  he  would  at  least  make  an  effort; 
but  I  am  afraid  that  he  is  really  stupid,  and, 
what's  worse,  that  he  doesn't  care  if  he  is.  It's 
too  bad." 

Even  on  the  night  before  examination 
Charley  studied  for  only  an  hour,  and  then 
held  yarn  for  his  mother  to  wind,  and  cut 
pen-wiper  patterns  for  his  sister,  and  was  so 
bright  and  cheerful  that  he  did  not  seem  like 
the  same  boy  who  was  usually  so  cross  and 
gloomy  at  such  times. 

Examination  day  came  and  passed,  and 
Charley  never  once  lost  his  high  spirits  or  his 
cheerful  manner,  but  was  unfailingly  happy 
and  good  natured  all  through  the  week. 

"  Well,  my  boy,"  said  Uncle  Fred,  with  his 
teasing  smile,  as  they  sat  down  to  dinner  on 
the  day  when  the  children  had  been  to  school 
to  get  their  examination  marks,  "  I  saw  a 
brand  new  stock  of  skates  down  at  Barker's 
this  morning." 


THE  SKATES  AND   CHARLEY 


"  My  size  is  number  nine  and  a  half,"  said 
Charley  in  a  very  matter-of-fact  tone,  though 
his  cheeks  were  flushed  and  his  eyes  shining. 

Uncle  Fred  laughed.  "  That  may  be  the  size 
of  your  foot,  all  right,  but  what  is  the  size  of 
your  arithmetic  mark? "  he  asked. 

"Ninety-five  per  cent,"  said  Charley,  proudly, 
sitting  up  very  straight. 

"  Whew !  "  whistled  Uncle  Fred,  thoroughly 
astonished.  "  Is  that  so?  Well,  how  on  earth 
did  you  do  it?  " 

Charley  glanced  at  his  mother  and  then  back 
at  Uncle  Fred.  "  Christian  Science  did  it,"  he 
said,  sturdily.  "  You  advised  me  to  try  it,  just 
to  tease  me,  and  I  did,  and  I  always  will  use 
it  after  this." 

Uncle  Fred  cleared  his  throat  and  looked  at 
Charley  over  his  glasses.  Then  he  held  out  his 
hand. 

"  Shake,  young  man,"  he  said.  "  I  don't 
know  just  what  there  is  in  Christian  Science, 
but  you've  done  a  good  thing  with  it,  and  I'm 
proud  of  you.  We  will  go  after  the  skates 


THE    GREY    STORY    BOOK 


to-morrow,  and  you  shall  have  any  pair  that 
you  want,  in  the  whole  shop,  no  matter  what 
they  cost.  You  have  surely  earned  them." 

That  night,  when  Mamma  came  to  say 
good  night,  she  kissed  the  boy  even  more 
tenderly  than  usual. 

"  And  so  you  handled  your  trouble  all  your- 
self, did  you,  dearie?  "  she  asked,  smoothing 
back  his  hair,  lovingly. 

"Yes'm,"  said  Charley,  slipping  an  arm 
around  her  neck,  "  with  what  you  told  me  that 
day  about  understanding,  and  about  reflecting 
God.  When  I  couldn't  seem  to  understand  my 
lessons,  I  knew  that  it  was  just  mortal  mind 
telling  me  lies,  so  I  told  it  to  get  out,  that  I 
didn't  believe  it,  because  I  reflected  perfect 
Understanding;  and  then  I  just  held  on  to 
that  thought,  and,  why,  Mamma,  things  got 
so  easy,  and  I  didn't  worry  a  bit  any  more, 
and  I  didn't  dread  examination  at  all ;  because 
I  knew  I  couldn't  help  but  get  good  marks 
because  I  really  did  understand  things  and 
didn't  get  all  mixed  up  any  more." 

Mamma  hugged  him  a  little  closer.  "And 
72 


THE  SKATES  AND   CHARLEY 


are  you  glad  that  you  are  going  to  have  the 
fine  skates?  "  she  asked,  a  little  twinkle  in  her 
eyes. 

Charley  laughed  merrily  at  the  remembrance 
of  Uncle  Fred's  surprise.  "  Of  course  I  am," 
he  said,  brightly ;  "  but  I'm  a  thousand  times 
gladder  that  I  have  found  out  about  under- 
standing, and  how  to  use  Christian  Science  to 
make  things  come  right.  The  skates  don't 
count  for  as  much  as  that." 

"  No,"  said  Mamma,  kissing  him,  tenderly, 
"  the  skates  don't  count  for  nearly  so  much  as 
that." 


73 


PRINTED  BY  R.  R.  DONNELLEY 
AND  SONS  COMPANY,  AT  THE 
LAKESIDE  PRESS,  CHICAGO,  ILL. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


NON-RENEWABLE 

NOV  281994 
DUE  2  WKS  FROM  DATE  RECEIVED 


. 


.•>Om-7.'6ft(N296§4) — 0-120 


University  of  California,  Lo 


L  007  114  166  7 


i 


PLEASE  DO  NOT  REMOVE 
THIS  BOOK  CARD    -J 


University  Research  Library 


